


Hear No Evil

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes), venusiaries



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sign Language, Temporarily Blind Character, Temporarily Deaf Character, Temporarily Mute Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24118441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice, https://archiveofourown.org/users/venusiaries/pseuds/venusiaries
Summary: Steve sits on the exam table, watching the team move around him in varying degrees of concern. Nat is standing by the door in a way that Steve knows is carefully manufactured to look stoic. Clint is pacing, his arms crossed and a furrow on his brow, and Bruce is looking at Doctor Cho intently. As for the three of them that are affected, Steve has already figured what's going on. The fact that they were fighting monkeys had made it a damn sight easier to figure out.Steve snorts at the irony.Steve and Tony have led the Avengers through enough storms that they can weather anything together. Except, perhaps, the loss of their senses. It's up to the team to find out a way to cure their leaders of their plight -- and maybe some of that pining along the way.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 68
Kudos: 422
Collections: Captain America/Iron Man Reverse Bang 2020





	Hear No Evil

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to my partner venusiaries for letting me write for their art! I had so much fun with this piece even if it didn't QUITE end up where I thought it would. Thanks to the many and varied members of the PotS server that looked this over and assured me it wasn't horrible. I hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> [Link to art on twitter](https://twitter.com/venusiaries/status/1259863829367779334)   
>  [Link to art on tumblr](https://noririna.tumblr.com/post/617832339583762432/for-my-second-team-for-the-2020-cap-ironman)

There's no ringing in Steve's ears when he comes around. He shakes his head and winces at the way it rattles his brain in his skull. There's pain there, an ache under his skin that has him worried for his companions. He gets to his feet, unaware that anything is wrong until he starts shouting for Tony and Rhodes to get back in the air. The second Tony's field name slips past his lips, he knows something's wrong. He reaches for his throat. His heart is beating a sharp rhythm in his jugular as his strategist's brain works overtime. He calls out for Nat who turns to look at him. It confirms the suspicion in his chest. He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments before shaking his head at her. Her eyes go wide with understanding and she turns away. He can see her hand come up to her ear and can imagine her shouting into the coms, taking charge immediately. As she does, Steve turns to his own set of problems.

He may not be able to hear anything right now, but that doesn't mean he can't take out some of these damn monkeys himself.

Steve sits on the exam table, watching the team move around him in varying degrees of concern. Nat is standing by the door in a way that Steve knows is carefully manufactured to look stoic. Clint is pacing, his arms crossed and a furrow on his brow, and Bruce is looking at Doctor Cho intently. As for the three of them that are affected, Steve has already figured what's going on. The fact that they were fighting monkeys had made it a damn sight easier to figure out.

Steve snorts at the irony.

Clint stops pacing and whips his head around to face Steve. Bruce and Doctor Cho both turn to him as well, and Steve can tell that they think he was laughing at something one of them said rather than at a particularly funny thought. He waves them off. He sees Bruce's lips move, but he still can't hear anything. He thinks he can make out a few of the words, but nothing that's enough to be able to respond. Bruce sighs and turns to grab something off the table beside him. He scribbles a few words on Doctor Cho's pad and hands it to Steve.

_You know what's going on?_

"Obvious, isn't it?" Steve winces empathetically at the way everyone in the room flinches away from him. Hard to modulate his volume when he can't hear himself. "The monkeys took our senses. My hearing for sure, and from the way Rhodes hasn't moved since we got here I'd guess they took his sight. And Tony—"

Tony appears in front of him, gesticulating wildly. Clint grabs him by the shoulder, hauling him away from Steve and gesturing right back at him. Steve just smiles helplessly at them, reminded again that Tony really is the most brilliant mind of the age. It would be just like him to pick up sign language on the Quinjet ride to Medical.

Steve turns back to Bruce and Doctor Cho. "Anyway, from the way Thor took off right away I think we can reasonably assume he thinks this has Loki's name written all over it. We can afford to take a few days off and wait until he gets back."

Everyone but Tony is staring at Steve in varying degrees of surprise. For his part, Tony has his arms crossed over his chest, a triumphant smirk in place on his lips. Steve grins back at him, trying not to look too lovesick. Bruce turns back to Doctor Cho and Steve takes that as a dismissal. There's not much he can do here, at least when it comes to solving their conundrum. Rather than try, he fumbles in his pocket and pulls out his phone. It's a matter of moments to pull up a course on ASL, mute the videos, and start watching.

He becomes so engrossed, committing the movements to memory, that he misses it when everyone starts to file out of the exam room. Tony catches him by the elbow, tugging just enough to get Steve's attention. Steve looks up at him. Tony's got an amused grin on his face, and when he pulls his hand away, he signs a quick _Find anything interesting?_

Steve smiles back. _Yes_.

Tony's grin goes radiant and Steve can't help but return the expression in kind.

* * *

He doesn't catch what Clint says when he and Tony make their way out of Medical signing at one another, but he does see the sharp insult Tony directs at Clint.

Steve raises an eyebrow at Tony, sharp and decisive. Tony stares up at him plaintively, but Steve doesn't back down. Tony throws a casual _Sorry_ over his shoulder at Clint who signs back at them sharply and too fast for Steve to catch. Tony responds just as sharply and then the two of them are off in an argument that has Steve chuckling at the pair of them. Tony whips around to glare at him, but Steve just shrugs at him in turn. They follow the rest of the team to the jet that will take them back to the Tower. Tony elects to join them in the jet rather than fly on his own. Steve doesn't question it. He's rattled enough that he's grateful to have Tony so close. He catches himself glancing over at Tony repeatedly throughout the ride home. The sight of him there, whole and alive is a tether to reality in the resounding silence that echoes in his ears.

Bruce touches his elbow. "Are you okay?" He mouths the words slowly enough that Steve catches them. He shrugs, struggling to keep his eyes off of Tony and Clint in the corner. There isn't really anything he can say that will encompass the worry and contentment mixing in equal measures in his chest. Bruce seems to understand, though. He pats Steve on the arm and gets to his feet to confer with Nat. Steve lets himself watch over them for a brief moment before turning back to Tony and Clint, doing his best to stop the storm he can see brewing over there. It's in the lines of Tony's face and the sweep of his hands as he signs to Clint. Still, Steve can't be bothered to tear his eyes away from Tony and all his brilliance when he himself is struggling to hang onto the reality of what's happening.

Tony drags Rhodes off to his workshop as soon as they make it back to the Tower. Steve doesn't begrudge him that, but he does get antsy within the first few twenty minutes of being back at the Tower in his own room. When the nerves and silence get to be too much, he grabs his sketchbook and heads down to Tony's lab. Tony turns to him as soon as he starts to punch in his code. Tony's face flickers with something like concern, but he waves off Steve's answering concern. He signs rapidly into the air between them, too fast for Steve to catch, but he sees the way Rhodes tilts his head to the side as though listening to something.

Steve waits until he has Tony's attention before he starts signing again. _You programmed JARVIS to understand sign language already?_

Tony grins. _Didn't take much._

Steve rolls his eyes, knowing that this is just Tony downplaying his genius the way he does when he's done something that really is for himself. He crosses the room, tapping Rhodes on the shoulder to make it clear that he and Tony aren't alone anymore. Rhodes tilts his head up toward him, looking somewhere to Steve's left. He sees Rhodes' lips shape his name. "Yeah," he says, trying to keep his voice low.

Rhodes nods and turns back towards Tony. Tony signs in his direction again, which has Steve wondering what's going on. Tony pauses briefly and Steve sees the way Rhodes cocks his head to the side. JARVIS, Steve realizes. This is why they came down here, why Tony programmed JARVIS to understand his signs first. It warms something in Steve's chest even as it leaves him feeling bereft in the silence of his world. He'd come down here in hopes of finding connection, camaraderie, but Rhodes and Tony have always been on a different level. Years of history will do that to a friendship. Steve rubs a hand over the center of his chest, the familiar ache of missing Bucky enough to pull him out of his reverie. He swallows, taking in the sight of the two of them together and immortalizing it in his mind. He may never be able to have what he wants with Tony, but maybe being here to experience his joy and comfort can be enough.

Steve turns away and heads over to the couch in the corner that has long since been dubbed as his. He flips his sketchbook open and turns to a blank page. He glances up at Tony and Rhodes, letting his pencil start to sketch the easy arc of Tony's hands and the attentiveness in the way Rhodes watches him. Steve wouldn't be surprised if Rhodes has half a dozen signs learned before this whole ordeal is over. There's fluency and ease in the way Tony signs, but Steve doesn't let himself look too closely at the signs themselves. That's a conversation for the two of them, and Steve won't intrude on it.

At some point Tony and Rhodes switch to running a series of tests of some sort, clearly intended to try to find a scientific cure. Steve chuckles when he realizes what's going on; it's just like Tony not to want to wait for someone else to solve the problem. If the pair of them notice the laugh, they make no sign of it, both so engrossed in what they're doing. For now, Steve is perfectly content to sit and observe, letting the pair of them have whatever time they need.

* * *

It's not that Steve's never noticed Tony's hands before. He has. Covered in oil or dirt or blood, Steve's spent hours watching the way Tony's hands work. Tony's always been handy, and Steve knows that better than most. He's spent days down in Tony's lab watching him work on the suits and the team's gear. He's learned more about car maintenance and the best way to solder together Nat's Widow Bites and the tension and flexion Tony puts into Clint's arrows than he ever needed to know. Steve knows the bend and flex of Tony's wrist and the delicate, powerful arch of his fingers. Steve knows Tony as intimately as he is allowed, and that has always had to be enough.

Now, watching the easy way Tony uses his hands to communicate his thoughts where his lips will no longer suffice, Steve finds himself fascinated anew. The flex of his wrist as he signs is different than the flex when he's reaching deep inside a car engine. The arch of his fingers as he flips Clint off mid-sign is different than the way they curl around a screwdriver in the lab. There's something deeper, different, foreign and strange about watching the way that Tony moves through the world without his voice. Steve isn't sure if he hates it or loves it. Hates the way Tony occasionally pauses mid-sign as though to find a missing word. Loves the adorable look of confusion on his face when that happens. Hates the way the team sometimes ignores him without the sound of his voice to make him heard. Loves the way Tony turns to him in those moments, exasperated and looking for companionship that Steve always offers. There's so much Steve can suddenly see in every expression on Tony's face that he never noticed before. New expressions to categorize and understand the way he's never had to before. He's always had Tony's voice to balance out any question of his features; without that Steve finds himself noticing minute shifts in Tony's face that he's never had to notice before. More than once Steve has to hold himself back from reaching out to smooth away a wrinkle in Tony's forehead, desperate to see one of the small, genuinely happy smiles that so rarely grace his features. Each one feels like a blessing, and Steve just wants to see it all the time.

Every time the urge hits him, he bows his head to his sketchbook and tries to capture the warmth and light that is Tony on the page.

Steve fills half a sketchbook with Tony over the next three days, the drawings interspersed with his pointed scribblings at the surprisingly few members of their team that don't speak ASL. Clint and Nat are both fluent, correcting Steve and Tony when they make a social faux pas in their rudimentary understanding of the language. Fury seems to know just enough to be dangerous, better at understanding than at signing himself. Steve catches both Tony and Clint throwing glares at the director when he barks at them for something they've signed at one another. Steve just chuckles when that happens, earning him glares from all three of them.

For his part, Steve isn't nearly as fluent in ASL as even Tony is. Tony, who had taken to it like a fish to water and let the language flow seamlessly into his existence as though there had never been anything else. It leaves Steve wondering how Tony's tongue would sound wrapped around French's syllibiance, pressed into German's rough consonance, languishing in the perfectly shaped syllables of Japanese. Leaves him wondering just how many languages Tony speaks and just how well.

Each time his thoughts go that far, though, he reels them back in and reminds himself that all of that can only ever happen if Thor makes his way back with Loki to undo what's been done to them. It's not that the silence is deafening, it's that he's finding himself wondering more and more if this is all he'll ever be again. The scarlet fever had stolen his hearing in one ear decades ago, and losing one of the many tethers to his enhanced existence rankles worse than he wants to give it credit for. For all that the excuse to stare at the beauty of Tony's hands is a welcome one, Steve thinks he might be happier if he could just go back to the way things were before.

Tony catches onto Steve's melancholy faster than anyone else. _You alright Cap?_ He signs this with the name sign Clint had shown him; his hands in the shape of a C combined with the sign for shield.

Steve forces a smile. _Just thinking._

_Don't give me that. I know your thinking face. That wasn't your thinking face, that was your sulking face._

Steve throws his head back and laughs at that. Tony's called it that before, but never in ASL, and he can't help finding the way he translated it a hell of a lot more entertaining than the English counterpart. _Sulking face, huh?_

Tony flushes at the sign Steve throws back at him. _You know what I meant, Cap._

Steve tilts his head to the side, wondering at the way Tony's hands had stuttered over his name. Steve couldn't quite catch what he'd been going to say instead, but that didn't seem to matter in the end. He'd seen the slip, and Tony knew he'd seen the slip, and Tony is going to run if Steve doesn't deflect in time. _Just wondering how long we're going to be like this. It's been more than a week already with no word from Thor. Makes a guy wonder._

Tony tilts his head to the side. Steve feels like he can see the play of every last emotion on his face, calm and clear and perfect in a way that Steve's never been able to parse before all of this. Even if he never gets his hearing back, at least he'll have this.

It's not the same, and it's not enough, but at least it's something.

 _Thor will figure something out,_ Tony signs. Steve can tell he's not as certain as he might have been able to pretend to be if he'd had his voice. Tony's always hidden behind a smile and a quip, but he can't seem to translate them as well into ASL as he can roll them off his tongue in English.

 _I know,_ Steve lies. _It's gonna be fine._ He knows Tony can see through Steve just as easily as Steve can see through him, but he can't deny that making the effort for Tony alleviates at least some of the ache in his chest. If he can't pretend for himself, at least he can pretend for Tony.

It's ten days into the ordeal before the first big Avengers call comes in. Steve's itching for some action, but he also knows he'd be more of a liability than an asset with his hearing still compromised. He and Tony and Rhodes all stay behind, Steve keeping up a running litany of what he's seeing on Tony's many, many screens devoted to the cameras lining the team's uniforms for Rhodes' benefit, Tony signing everything that's coming through on coms for Steve's. Steve's not used to being the one that's benched, and watching his team fight their way through three dozen hive mind connected robots is not how he'd wanted to spend his Saturday. More than once Tony has Steve relaying information to the team over coms, and though Steve never hears the team's response, Tony always relaxes a little after Steve's passed on the messages.

In the end, it's a combination of one of Clint's arrows and Tony's ability to program on the fly that gets them out of the whole mess. It's Nat's cunning and Bruce's strength that gets them through in one piece. And, not for the first time since this whole thing started, Steve finds himself wondering what exactly his role on the team actually is. It's not that he isn't sure that the team wants him around. He is. He just also isn't completely sure _why_ they want him around. There are plenty of beings that can do what Steve can now, and Steve has a hell of a lot more baggage than most of the rest of them. So what, exactly, is his role here in all this? What exactly is the point of keeping him on the team?

Tony raps Steve sharply on the head before his thoughts can spiral too much deeper. _Sulking face_ , he signs, and Steve laughs.

_It's nothing._

Tony raises a skeptical eyebrow. _Whatever you say, Cap._

Steve nods and looks away before Tony can read more into his expression than Steve wants him to. He gets to his feet and steps out of the control room, not letting himself look back. He knows Tony must be signing at him, knows JARVIS would be calling after him if he could hear, but if Tony really wants to keep him here, all he has to do is have JARVIS close and lock the door in front of him, and as that doesn't seem to be happening, Steve lets himself walk on through. They can worry about the rest later. Right now, Steve just needs some time to think.

Fifteen crumpled up sketches later, Steve decides that he might have left the room a bit too soon. He's missed the debrief by now, no doubt, and at this point all that would be left would be everyone's mission reports. He leaves his floor and makes his way to Natasha's. He raps on the door to her apartment and she opens it with a curious expression. _Need something?_

Steve finds himself missing, not for the first time, the absence of his name in these conversations. He knows that Nat and Clint had really only ever talked about him as the Captain for most of their work together, but the fact that they haven't offered up a name sign for him that isn't his title still rankles. They've tried to explain it to him, but it never sticks.

_Just needed some company._

Natasha raises an eyebrow but steps aside, letting him step past her into her apartment.

The place is almost as sparse as his, but in a less military way. There's something here that speaks to years of privacy and caution. It tightens something in his chest, weighing him down as though to pull him under; Natasha's made a life that works for her despite all the pain and trauma she's faced, and Steve… here Steve is worrying about his place in his team-slash-family. He settles down on the couch in her living room, thighs spread and hands clasped between his knees. He can't hear Natasha moving around in the kitchen behind him but he can imagine that's what she's doing. He wets his lips, parting them as though to speak. He stops short, though, when it occurs to him that he'll have to wait for her to come over to the living room before he'll be able to see her response. So he waits.

A mug appears in his line of sight. He startles, looking up at Nat in time to see her wince. _Sorry,_ she signs once he's taken the mug from her. _Bad etiquette._

Steve smiles, taking a sip from the mug — Bruce's signature jasmine tea — before setting it down on the coffee table. _I wouldn't have known._

Natasha raises an eyebrow. _Really._

_Really. You know I don't know how all this works the way you and Clint do._

Natasha's face relaxes. _No. I guess not._

Steve reaches for his mug, keeping one eye on Natasha as he drinks. She gives him a full three minutes before she starts to question him.

_Are you going to tell me why you're really here?_

Steve lifts the mug a little higher to hide his line of sight to her. She doesn't push it aside, but when he lowers it to look at her again, her eyes are still piercing and knowing on his.

_Well?_

Steve sets his mug down. _You all did great out there today._

Natasha tilts her head, a thoughtful look on her face. _You're not happy about that._

 _Of course I'm happy about that. It just makes me wonder—_ Steve cuts himself off before he can get any further, unwilling to let her see through him any further.

He's too late. _It's just that you don't know why we want you on the team._

Steve grabs his mug again, lifting it to his lips and turning away from Natasha. She does push it aside this time, meeting his eyes head-on.

_There's no one else like you._

_Then why don't you and Clint have a name sign for me?_

Natasha frowns. _We do._

 _You call me Cap,_ he says, giving the sign and then finger spelling it. Her eyes go wide, and before she can sign anything else, Steve snaps his fingers into position. _But not **Steve**_ , he finger spells. _Never **Steve**_. 

Natasha pulls away, her eyes wide and worried. _I didn't know that bothered you._

_Now you do._

Natasha goes on staring into his eyes, as though looking for other unknown secrets that he might be keeping from her. Then she settles back into her chair. _I guess I do._

They finish their drinks with their hands wrapped firmly around their mugs, pointedly not speaking as they take their time. Eventually Steve can't avoid this any longer and he gets to his feet, ready to head back to his floor. Natasha surges to her feet beside him, hands coming up as though to sign something to him only to stop short before they can form anything more than the beginning of his callsign. Steve smiles, small and bleak and tries not to let her hesitation get to him. Her face tightens and she starts signing, confidence and poise restored.

 _I'll talk to Clint. About your name sign,_ she adds at Steve's confused expression.

Steve shakes his head. _It's no big deal. I'll get over it._

_Clearly it is. I'll talk to Clint._

Steve nods, but doesn't expect anything to come from it. Things so rarely do.

* * *

Steve sets up shop in Tony's workshop the next day, watching in silence as he works. Tony knows he's here, but he hasn't acknowledged him. It's almost as if he's more comfortable moving in his space with Steve there. As if there is nothing he wants more than to work under Steve's watchful eye.

But that's ridiculous. Steve pushes the thought down.

He reaches for his sketchbook, opening it up to a blank page. He spends the better part of two hours sketching DUM-E and the other robots, trying not to let his attention stray to Tony too often. He does glance over plenty, though, unable to keep his eyes away for too long. Eventually sharp angles turn to gentler arcs, sharp lines to smoother curves, DUM-E to Tony in all his glory. It's not that it's never happened before, it's that this is the first time it's felt this inexorable, this impossible to resist. Tony's been everything for so long, it's just never felt this obvious before.

When Steve looks up again to find Tony, he's sitting on the table in front of Steve, staring down at the contents of his sketchbook. The moment his hands still, Tony looks up at him, looking caught out. He lifts his hands and signs a quick _Is this okay?_

Steve swallows, setting his pencil down slowly for an excuse to gather his racing thoughts and calm his pounding heart. He doesn't take his eyes off of Tony's, unable to break that warm gaze. Once his hands are free and he can no longer delay his response, he lifts his hands. _Is what okay?_ A stalling tactic, perhaps, but Steve's not a tactical genius for nothing.

_Me watching. Is it okay?_

Steve hesitates again. Tony's face stays open, hopeful, for just long enough to lift Steve's heart a touch. Then Tony's expression shutters and he breaks Steve's gaze, swallowing. He turns back to Steve, hands already coming up to throw out a quip, but Steve cuts him off. _Why would you want to?_

Tony blinks. _Why wouldn't I?_

_They're just silly little sketches. They're nothing._

Tony's eyes go wide. He reaches out a hand toward Steve's sketchbook, pulling it back a moment later. _They're beautiful._

Steve scoffs. It's his turn to look away. _They're nothing._

Tony reaches out again, but not for the sketchbook this time. He slides his fingers under Steve's chin, turning him toward Tony and tipping his chin up. He pulls away only to sign at him. _They're everything to me._

Steve sees the words Tony isn't speaking in the lines of his face. Has Tony's face always been this expressive? Steve can't honestly say. For all that he's spent hours watching Tony and learning his every move, he's also been drawn in by Tony's flashy words. Anything to draw attention away from who Tony really is. Who he is down to his core. Steve's fallen into those traps before, letting Tony throw him off the scent of an injury or weakness until Steve catches on to what he'd done. Usually it's too late to do anything to help, and it rankles, but Steve's been putting on a brave face for his team since before his current teammates were born. He knows his role, his purpose, and he'll fulfill it to the best of his ability.

But here, now, he doesn't feel like a leader. He feels like a man that is in love and finally knows the man he loves better than he'd ever thought possible. This is a Tony that's putting himself out on the line, lying down on the wire if that's what it takes to make Steve feel safe. If that's what it takes to let Steve make the last leap. Steve sees the desperate whisper that Tony's trying to make him understand, and, for the first time, Steve thinks he might be brave enough to take that leap with him.

_You're beautiful too, Tony._

Tony's eyes widen a fraction, just enough that Steve can tell that that's what's happening. Steve doesn't realize that he knows what Tony's about to do until he's getting to his feet and reaching out to clasp a hand around Tony's wrist and hold him back from darting away. Tony looks up at him, eyes wide as he stares up at Steve. Steve stares at him, trying to parse what's going on in Tony's head. He can see the fear, the apprehension, and, somewhere deep down, that hint of hope. Steve reaches his free hand up slowly, telegraphing his movements before he lets his hand rest against Tony's jaw. Tony leans into him, eyes still wide, but arm a little less tense in Steve's grasp.

Steve takes a chance and releases Tony's wrist to bring his other hand up to cup Tony's face between both of them. Tony's eyes go even wider, staring up at Steve with wonder and hope and something like desperation in his features. Steve almost can't believe what he's about to do, the chance he's about to take. But this is Tony, and there's nothing he wouldn't do to reassure Tony that he is loved and wanted and valued.

He keeps his eyes open as he leans in, making sure that Tony is receptive. The moment Tony's eyelids flutter closed, Steve lets him do the same. Then he's brushing his lips against Tony's, marking him the way Steve's always wanted to.

Tony inhales sharply against him before pressing his lips more firmly against Steve's. Steve answers in kind, lips moving and working against Tony's with a gentle pressure. It's warm and soft in a way that Steve would never have thought his first kiss with Tony would be. If he'd thought of it, he'd have expected it to come from frustration, from ache and pain and rage the way so many of the revelations of their friendship have come. Instead it has come in the kind of quiet moment that they so rarely have.

Tony pulls back too soon. He looks up at Steve with wide, bright eyes that make it clear that he's not sure what to think. Endeared, Steve leans in to kiss the corner of Tony's lips before he can think better of it. When he pulls back, Tony sways into his space, his eyes closed when Steve finally gets a look at them. Steve strokes his thumbs across Tony's cheeks, urging him closer. Urging him into Steve's space. Tony goes willingly, and it's all Steve can do to keep his features calm. He rubs his nose against Tony's, a gesture that Tony returns in kind. There's a deep abiding trust here that Steve can't help but revel in. This is them, made one in a way that he'd never have thought possible, and it means a damn sight more than he can say with words.

Tony pulls back, a blissful smile on his lips. When his eyes open again, he's searching Steve's for something. Whatever it is, he must find it, because his face is still warm and open as he pulls back far enough to sign to Steve. _Where did that come from?_

_It's been a long time coming, honestly._

Tony grins, though Steve can see from the look in his eyes that, if he had his voice, he'd be laughing his ass off. Steve just smiles back at him, chest warm with the kind of affection that Tony always brings about in him. _What on earth made you think I was a good call?_

Steve watches Tony's face as well as his hands when he signs, which is why he sees the flash of vulnerability there. Steve shakes his head. _You're the best call, Tony._ He reaches for Tony again, then remembers himself. _Can you trust me on that until I get my hearing back?_

Tony stares at him for a long moment. _What, you don't want to sign it to me?_

Steve shakes his head. _Not the first time. I want to tell you with my own words. My voice. And I want you to be able to say it back whenever you're ready. Maybe it's selfish, but I want to hear that in your voice, not see it in your hands._

_What, are my hands not good enough for you?_

Steve reaches out, clasping one of Tony's hands in his pulling them forward so that he can press a kiss to Tony's fingertips. To his palm. His wrist. Then catching the other hand and mirroring the motions on that hand. When he pulls back, Tony's gaping at him. Steve smirks. _I like your hands plenty. They're just not your voice._

Tony grabs Steve by the collar, hauling him in and kissing him senseless. Steve laughs against his lips, wishing he could hear if the breath Tony lets out against his in return is a laugh or a sigh. The silence isn't as cloying as it had been at the beginning, but Steve still finds himself missing his hearing every now and again. Maybe now more than ever as he realizes that he may never hear Tony's voice again if the team can't find a cure. It's an overdramatic thought, to be sure, but he lets himself think it just long enough for it to be real. He leans in closer against Tony, reveling in the warmth of his body. And if he can't help but laugh when Tony gropes his ass through his jeans, well, that's no one's business but theirs.

* * *

Steve's in the kitchen sketching when it happens. At least, that must be the case. He doesn't realize anything is going on until after it's happened.

Tony's gesticulating wildly at Natasha who's signing right back at him, and Rhodes is perched next to Steve, one hand resting on his shoulder as an anchor point except for when he's throwing his hands up at whatever Nat is saying as she signs wildly at Tony. Steve lost the thread of the conversation a while ago, distracted by the way Tony moves his hands. There's something skillful and practiced about the way he moves his hands, something that Steve hasn't quite mastered yet with his ASL. He's so used to filling in the sounds in his own head that it takes him a moment before he realizes that what he's hearing is actually Nat's voice.

"He's saying something about a party he threw at MIT, Rhodes, says it was better than any party you ever could have—"

"Nat?"

Nat cuts herself off, turning to Steve and signing a quick, _What is it?_ at him.

_Say that again._

Nat's eyes go wide, and Steve knows she knows. He's already on his feet, turning toward Tony when she whispers, "Steve?"

Steve doesn't stop, dodging around the kitchen table to grab Tony by the face and kiss him, long and slow and deep. Tony makes a sound under him — a whimper, maybe — and Steve pulls back to revel in the sound, laughing against Tony's lips. "Fuck," he whispers. "Tony."

"Steve?" Tony's voice is hoarse from disuse, but Steve doesn't give a damn. It's the most beautiful thing he's heard in weeks. He looks up at Tony, heart in his throat as he tries to find the words.

In the end, there are only three that matter. "I love you."

Tony inhales sharply, leaning in to kiss Steve again. When he pulls back, he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Steve's. "Steve, I…"

"You don't have to—"

"I love you too."

Steve's breath catches. Something warm and wanting curls in his stomach, a feeling that only Tony has ever been able to inspire in him. He pulls Tony in closer, pressing their bodies flush so he can—

"Oh, come on, guys, did you _really_ have to make this the first thing I see after almost a month without being able to see a damn thing?"

Tony pulls away, laughing as he reaches out to Rhodes, pulling him into a bear hug. "Jealous, honey badger? You know you'll always have a special place in my heart."

Rhodes claps him on the back, his eyes locked on Steve, assessing him. "Yeah, I know, buddy, Still doesn't mean I wanna open my eyes to you making out with your man over there."

Steve manages not to choke on his tongue at that, but it's a very near thing. "Colonel—"

Rhodes waves him off. "Just don't make him cry and we'll be fine, Rogers." Tony squawks, but before he can pull away, Rhodes tightens his hold on Tony's shoulders. "You got that?"

Steve can hear the seriousness under the teasing tone, and stands up a little straighter. "Of course."

Rhodes watches him for a moment longer, shifting Tony seamlessly into a headlock as he squirms. When he's satisfied, he nods. "See to it." Then he hauls Tony up so they're facing each other. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Aww, but where's the fun in that, platypus?"

Rhodes rolls his eyes, ruffling Tony's hair. "It's not all fun and games, Stark. You want to keep him, you gotta be a lot more thoughtful than you've been before." He leans in, whispering something to Tony that has him straightening the way Steve just had.

His face softens and he reaches up to embrace Rhodes. "Yeah, yeah, Rhodey. Just go on back to wherever you need to be and send me the bill for whatever procedures they put you through to make sure you're in tip-top shape."

Rhodes laughs as he pulls away, shoving at Tony lightly. "Don't think I won't, oh billionaire genius of mine."

Something pulls in Steve's stomach at the possessive, but he pushes it down, too busy focusing on the way Tony smiles and moves, the parts of him that he's come to know so well over these past few weeks. He reaches out without thinking, wrapping a hand around Tony's waist and pulling him in close.

Rhodes makes eye contact with him once more, a pointed reminder of the words he'd said earlier, before he glances over at Nat and tosses a wave in her direction. "Try to make sure these two knuckleheads stay out of trouble, hmm?"

"That's a full-time job," Nat says with a roll of her eyes, "and I already have one of those. But I'll see what I can do."

Rhodes grins. "Thanks. I owe you one."

"You're damn right you do."

Rhodes turns away as he makes his way toward the elevator. "Catch you later, Tones."

"Bye Rhodey." Tony's already turning in Steve's arms. "See you when you get back."

"Damn right you will! Don't let that boy toy of yours wear you out too much." Tony squawks at that, but Steve can only bury his face in Tony's shoulder, shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Let it go, Tony," he says when Tony starts to try to pull away from him. "It's no big deal."

"It is too a big deal! It was one thing when I was just sitting around wanting you like a lovesick idiot, it's another when you're my—" Tony stops short there, his body going stiff in Steve's arms.

Steve stiffens in response. "Your what, Tony?"

"Never mind. Forget I said anything."

Steve's chest warms. He leans in, nosing at Tony's ear. "Hmm. Don't think I want to."

Tony squirms, but doesn't make a concerted effort to get away. "It was nothing Steve. Just forget about it."

"Nope." Steve lets the p pop off his lips. "What were you gonna call me? Your boyfriend?"

"What? No, that's childish."

"Your partner?"

Tony makes a strangled sound. "Steve—"

"Your boy toy?"

Tony whirls around in his arms. "That was Rhodey being a dick and you know it."

"Then what were you going to call me, Tony?"

Tony bites his lips. "Mine. I was going to call you mine."

Steve's breath catches. "Yeah?"

Tony's face relaxes, his body going limp and loose against him. "Yeah."

Steve leans in, kissing the corner of Tony's mouth. "I'm yours, huh?"

"If you want to be." Tony speaks quickly enough that Steve can tell that he doesn't think Steve does want him. That can't stand.

Steve turns Tony in his arms, leaning in to kiss him soundly. "I do, Tony. So much more than I can say. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine."

Tony's eyes are glassy. "Yeah?"

Steve smiles. "Yeah."

Tony goes up on his toes, kissing Steve. "Well then. I guess we have some time to make up for."

"And that's my cue to leave." 

Steve startles at the sound of Nat's voice, whipping around to face her. He feels Tony curl in against him and cups the back of his head instinctively, even though he knows there's no danger of anything. Not as long as she didn't— but, no, there's the cell phone in her hand. She's slipping it into a pocket, cool as a cucumber, and Steve knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that they're screwed when she decides to show everyone else that footage. "Nat—"

"You two be safe, alright?"

Steve stares at her as she saunters toward the elevator. Tony's laughs sound slightly hysterical where he's pressing them into Steve's chest, but that somehow feels less important than whatever's on Nat's phone. Before he can pull away to see, though, Tony tightens his grip around Steve's waist.

"Leave it, Steve. It's not a big deal."

"Tony—"

"It's not a big deal." Tony leans back, grinning up at him. "I have a feeling we're going to want that footage in a few years."

Steve blinks, his mind trying to catch up with the implication. When it does, it's all he can do to grin goofily down at Tony. "Yeah?"

Tony's answering smile is just as goofy. "Yeah."

Steve smiles, pulling Tony in close and burying his face in Tony's neck. "Well alright then."

Tony doesn't answer with words. He just pulls Steve in close. That speaks louder than words ever could, and, frankly, Steve can't find it in himself to mind.


End file.
